


Blue Waltz

by PrairieFarmGirl



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst with a Happy Ending, Army, F/M, Hospitalization, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23674585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrairieFarmGirl/pseuds/PrairieFarmGirl
Summary: WWII AU:  Nurse Claire Beauchamp gets to know Colonel James Fraser at a USO during R&R and quickly falls for him.  But when they are separated during D-Day, she meets up with a mystery soldier that also steals her heart.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 21
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story came to me as I was scrolling Tumblr and saw old pictures of women nurses in World War II uniforms. One in particular struck me. She was in a field uniform (khaki green blouse with matching baggy pants). Her hair was covered in a scarf and she wore a dirty apron. It occurred to me that this could have been a lot like Claire. I thought what if Claire was working in a field hospital and met Jamie there…not as a patient, but as a soldier. I just started typing and this popped out. Forgive me in advance for any errors. I try to be accurate, but my story doesn’t always fit in with the historical facts. Enjoy!

##  _France, 1944_

Claire had just finished donning a clean field uniform and a new apron. Her previous uniform was beyond filthy and covered in every body fluid imaginable. She even took a minute for a quick sponge bath and to spray a wee bit of her favorite perfume behind her ears so she wasn’t so odiferous. Not that anyone cared. One became used to the smells of an army field hospital. Yet she felt better. Cleaner. 

She walked over to the tent opening and was just preparing to report to duty when she heard bombs go off. These were closer than they’d ever experienced. The doctors and nurses on duty were rushing to the shelves near the tent opening, grabbing their helmets, and ran back to their patients to relocate them to safety. Claire was momentarily stunned, but soon enough she shook it off, grabbed a helmet and began helping transport patients to safety in the underground tunnels. 

They had practiced these drills many times. It looked like chaos, but it was in fact a well-oiled machine. Doctors and orderlies moved the sickest. The nurses assisted those who could walk on their own. Supplies were already stored in the underground tunnels near the field hospital, so that valuable time wasn’t wasted in getting them. As patients were settled, the commanding officer called for complete quiet, lights out and the tunnel secured. 

Claire felt her way to a spot on the wall to sit, furthest from the tunnel’s entrance. She felt safer deeper in the tunnel. Overhead, she heard the unmistakable sound of the whistle of a bomb heading for its intended target. She squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the inevitable ground-shaking contact. She hated this part the most. The waiting. The part where you waited for the destruction to happen. The part where your life hangs in the balance. 

The bomb hit close enough to the field hospital that the ground shook and rattled her teeth. She must have let out a frightened whimper (she truly tried to remain calm, but a person is only human in the face of death) because a warm hand found her arm, slid down it’s length and took her hand. She clung to the faceless stranger, not caring who she clung to.

Another round of shells landed even closer to the tunnel. She knew she should help calm the patients, but she was frozen in place, eaten up with fear. The hand that held hers pulled her closer. It released her hand and slid up across her shoulder, pulling her into the safety of another human being. The opposite hand reached over and took the abandoned hand, that shook no matter how much Claire tried to remain calm. 

Another shell shook the earth and pieces of dirt and rubble began to fall from the ceiling. Their training had told them that they were safe in the tunnel. It was reinforced and would not cave in. Claire had seen that reinforcement with her own eyes, but that didn’t keep the fear from washing through her. Being buried alive was not something she relished. 

The arm that surrounded her pulled her even closer and the slightest of whispers in her ear said, “Ye’re alright. Just breathe.” Claire knew three things about the person who held her. It was a man. He was strong. And he was a Scot. 

In the deafening silence between shells, her brain ran through all the men on duty at the field hospital as well as the soldiers that were being treated there. She could NOT think of a single Scottish man. There was a Scottish nurse, Geillis, who was also her closest friend. He may have been a field medic, but she thought they had all left for the front this morning. 

The next shell whistled over head and landed with a deafening explosion near the opposite entrance of the tunnel. As the ear-splitting roar echoed through the tunnel, her protector brought her head to his chest and held her there, squeezing her tight. She could hear the fast-paced beat of his heart, even through her helmet. As the bombing continued, she found herself concentrating on the beat of his heart and sought shelter there. She allowed her hands to surround him in a near hug, which aided her shaking hands in having something to grab onto. 

As they clung to each other, bombs exploding overhead, he began to speak, barely a whisper.

“Ye’re doin’ fine. Just breathe. We’re okay. We’re in the safest place right now. I have ye. Ye know, ye are the nicest smelling thing I’ve had the pleasure of smelling for quite some time now. I’ve gotten so used to the filth of war that I’ve forgotten what “fresh” smells like. I smell the starch on ye’re apron, as if ye had just finished ironing it. I smell a freshly laundered uniform. But what I can’t get enough of is the wee scent of your perfume. I’ve not smelt perfume since before the war. It’s nice. Not too strong. It smells powdery with a hint of vanilla and something else I can’t pick out.”

“Blue Waltz,” Claire spoke in barely a whisper. 

“I like it. I smell it best by ye’re wee ear. Here, just behind it.” He ran a finger behind her ear in the area where she had dabbed the smallest bit of her precious perfume (it was her last bottle, after all, so she used it sparingly). A shiver ran through her at the contact. His arms tightened around her. 

“Are ye cold?”

“N-n-no,” Claire’s breath hitched out. “Just a bit ticklish.”

“Ah. Weel. I am, too, at that.” He shifted a bit so he could settle more comfortably against the rock wall of the tunnel. She thought to pull away, but he tightened his hold on her and she resigned herself to settling back against his chest. She felt safe there, despite the destruction going on all around them. 

“Nay…dinna move. I like to smell ye’re perfume. I know I don’t know ye, but it puts my mind on something other than what’s going on above us.”

“What does it make you think of?” She was comforted by his voice. This would keep him talking in her ear.

He whispered closer to her ear, “I think of a man and his lass. They are dressed in their finest and dancing, cheek-to-cheek. She dabs her perfume behind her ear because she knows he likes to nuzzle there and whisper sweet nothings in her ear as they dance. He likes to sneak wee kisses behind her ear and breathe in her scent. He holds her as close as he dares just to get to that spot. If he gets really brave, he sneaks in another kiss on her neck and nips her just there with his teeth.” He runs a finger just over said spot on her neck. She shivers yet, again. 

He runs his finger up to her cheek and cups her jaw. In the darkness, she can’t see anything, but she can almost hear his thoughts. She could hear his breathing quicken. She felt his muscles in his chest tense as he prepared to move his head closer to her. His cheek touched hers.

“Colonel, I believe we are clear,” a male voice in the tunnel interrupted. With that, Claire heard several rise from their places around the tunnel and prepare to exit. Yet another voice told them to wait in place until the all clear was given to move out of the tunnel.

He immediately pulled away and squeezed her arms. “I must go.”

Dazed, Claire leaned back against the wall of the tunnel and waited in the darkness. She let out the air that she didn’t realize she held and strained to hear the Scottish voice that was such a comfort to her, but she couldn’t make it out in all the movement. She had no idea who he was and had neglected to get his name. She hadn’t even realized that the shelling had stopped and silence reigned. She wasn’t sure which had rattled her most…the shelling or the Scot. 

Ten minutes later, they were given the okay to move back. Someone lit the lamps and preparations were made to return to the field hospital tents. As Claire was helping soldiers return to their beds, she was constantly searching for the Scot. She tried to imagine what he would look like as she helped clear away rubble left behind from the bombing. All that she could envision was someone who was fit and strong. She didn’t know the color of his hair or how tall he was. She only knew his voice at a whisper. 

With the flurry of activity of relocating their patients back to their beds, cleaning up and getting back to business as usual, Claire lost track of the soldiers that were in camp. It was only later that night, as she finally lay down on her bunk, exhausted, that she recalled his voice and the feel of his arms tight around her. She could listen to that voice all day. 

If only she knew his name. She closed her eyes and dreamt of her protector.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter of my WWII era story is from Jamie’s POV. He is an officer in the British Army. I have this story set about a month away from Normandy (D-Day). I tried to mesh the real life events with the story where I could, but it didn’t always work. Also, I know literally less than nothing about the Army. So I made up words (hope they are close!) to describe things. I also couldn’t find the equivalent of a British USO that would have been available to a US soldier (or at least not what I envisioned). So, I made it such that British soldiers could visit them, too. :) Let me know what y’all think. Enjoy!

Colonel James Fraser stood at a table looking at a map in the officers’ tent. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes closed. What he wouldn’t give for just a few hours of sleep. And a warm bath. And a home-cooked meal, of course. None of which were in his near future, as far as he could determine. **  
**

“Colonel, when was the last time you had R&R?”

Jamie let out a short laugh and shook his head. “Sir, I’m fairly certain ye are quite aware of that answer, given that we have been in this bloody war together since we set foot in France.”

Brigadier General John Grey laughed, “True. Why don’t I see what I can do to pull some strings to get you a few days off. You need some down time, clearly. You are our best strategist in field operations. We need you thinking clearly and rested, especially in the days ahead. You’ve heard the latest on the Nazis’ operations. I am looking for all this to come to a head in the next month, frankly. General Eisenhower on the U.S. side agrees. If I’m to grant you leave at all before the ball drops, I’ll need to do it now.”

Jamie nodded. Truly, he could use a day or two to recharge his batteries. He could not tell you the last R&R he had been on. He knew what John said was correct. Things were about to come to a head. He had heard rumors of Normandy. Certainly, it was still rumors, but he tended to think that was going to be the reality. It all fit. The Allies needed to gather together and hit them hard where it would do the most damage.

“Alright. How about a few days at the USO Club near here? I can be back quickly if I’m needed.”

“I’ll see to it. Be prepared to move out tomorrow. I’ll arrange transport for you. Word has it that there is a field hospital nearby that will be sending a small group to the same spot. We could get you on that military wagon easily enough. In the meantime, why don’t you retire for the night? You could use some sleep, judging from those red eyes.”

Jamie nodded. He knew it was useless to argue with a superior officer. He also knew it was useless to argue with a good friend who watched out for him like his own Mam. 

******

Jamie had received word that the military vehicle would be passing through mid-morning, so he had his knapsack packed and was prepared to leave. He reclined on his cot while waiting on the sentry to alert him of his transport. His mind had few hours to wander these days and exhaustion often had him asleep within seconds of hitting his pillow. Yet his mind went back to the tunnel that he and a few of his officers had been in to strategize and organize emergency defense forces. 

As soon as he and his officers heard the shelling begin, they made their way through the tunnel to the reinforced area, prepared to make themselves useful with the transporting of patients. Jamie, in his duties as Colonel, didn’t often find himself on the front lines these days but was more often found behind the lines near the field hospitals. He had just settled on the ground in the tunnel when lights out was called for, when he heard the sound of a female whimper close to him. 

He knew that shelling was a frightening experience for most and couldn’t resist reaching out with a steadying hand to her. What he hadn’t expected was to completely forget himself. It began as comfort and reassurance, but quickly progressed to something entirely different. He knew it was often the easiest to get through a shelling by distraction. He and his mates in the trenches used to talk of home or the girl that was waiting on them. Sometimes it was simple things like food or heat. 

What caused him to lose his mind, though, he’d never quite ken. She just…smelled so good. Clean. Fresh laundry. Female. It had been a very, very long time since he’d held a woman in his arms. Not for lack of offers, of course. He’d had plenty of those, for certain. Most were prostitutes and he stayed well clear of them. He didn’t relish the diseases that came with them. In moments of weakness, he made due on his own. 

She, whoever she was, nearly made him forget his strong resolve. He had nearly kissed her there in the dark. He didn’t know her name. He didn’t know what she looked like. He barely knew her voice. But he knew her smell. Blue Waltz, she had said. He’d never forget that. He’d know the feel of her small arm and the smoothness of her skin. She felt so small when he held her close. If only he…

“Colonel Fraser, your transport has arrived.”

Jamie shook his head slightly and sighed. Putting all of that behind him, he rose and grabbed his knapsack. 

The driver of the large truck that awaited hailed him, “Colonel Fraser?”

“Yes.”

“We have a spot for you in the back.” Jamie climbed into the back of the covered truck and found a seat close to the opening. In the darkness of the covering, despite the daylight, it was difficult to tell who was in the back with him. He could see at least 6 others. A nurse that sat opposite him by the opening was using the opening for daylight. She had been reading to the group to pass the time. 

She looked up at him and said, “Hello, Sir. Do you mind if we continue our reading? Will that be bothersome to you? We are reading from _Jane Eyre_ to pass the time.”

He smiled and motioned her to continue. 

“Ah, where was I now? I seem to have lost my place.”

“I believe we were to the part where Mr. Rochester brings Jane home after the wedding.”

“Ah! Yes, thank you, Gellie.”

As she began reading, Jamie settled in to get more comfortable, stretching out his long legs, careful not to touch the nurse that sat opposite to him. She had a very soothing voice and he found that he enjoyed very much listening to her read. She had brown, curly hair and was definitely a beauty. Her eyes were the color of whisky. On occasion, she would look up and glance at him. He held her gaze, finding that he couldn’t look away. Her lips curled up at the ends and looked back at her book. 

Soon enough, her voice led him to close his eyes and Jamie was lulled to sleep. 

He was startled by a hand grasping his leg and shaking him. “Sir, we’re here.” 

He woke up slightly disoriented and found that he had to blink several times to get his wits about him. He had been dreaming, quite nicely, about the girl in the tunnel. 

He quickly grabbed his knapsack and got up. He jumped from the truck and turned to assist the nurse with the wonderful voice down to the ground. She reached out and put her hands on Jamie’s shoulders as he grabbed her waist and brought her safely to the ground.

“Thank ye for reading yer wee book. It was a pleasant way to pass the time.” 

He expected her to say something in return, but he looked down to see started eyes. 

“Are ye alright?”

“Why…yes, I…I…you’re Scottish?”

“What gave me away? My red hair?” 

“Well, no, but…oh…never mind. I’m a complete idiot.”

“Weel, I’m pleased to meet ye, idiot or no’. Colonel James Fraser at yer service,” and he held out a hand to her in greeting.

She took his hand and grinned, “Claire Beauchamp, surgical nurse.” 

“What are ye doing this week, Nurse Beauchamp?” 

“I’m off for R&R at the USO with my mate, Geillis.”

He grinned. This might just be an interesting R&R, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Claire and Geillis enjoy a bit of R&R and Claire meets up again with a certain colonel, whom she finds particularly interesting. However, WWII is about to take a vital turn…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did use quite a bit of author’s license in writing this chapter. I don’t know if the USO was available to British soldiers or if they were even a place where one could stay during R&R. I don’t know if there was one in France. I don’t even know if they served coffee and donuts! But, in my world, this works. lol! Enjoy, and as always, tell me what y’all think!

Claire and Geillis had finished unpacking and getting their bunks in order. They were both looking forward to a few days off. Their first order of business was a bath, followed by a nap, and a hot meal. After checking nice, warm baths and long naps off their list, they set out on foot looking for a place to find a decent evening meal. **  
**

They found a nice French bistro and sat down to a meal of a hearty beef stew and bread. Since they were in France, they splurged on a good glass of wine. It was a simple meal, but it was an absolute delicacy in comparison to military meals.

“So, Gellie, what do you think we should do next?”

“Weel, I was thinkin’ of going to the dance at the USO this evening. They told me at the check in desk that a band would be playin’ tonight.” 

“Lovely! I can’t really recall the last time I danced.”

“It’s still early,” Gellie replied. “Why don’t we go back to our room and do our hair and nails. I even pieced together enough make-up to do us up nicely from some of the other nurses.” 

“That sounds heavenly!” Claire linked arms with Geillis and they headed back to their room.

**********

Geillis stood back to ponder her handiwork. She had done Claire’s hair, nails and make-up as well as letting Claire borrow one of her own dresses. She was a looker, her mate Claire was. She was sure to turn some heads tonight. 

“Well. How do I look?”

“Claire, ye look fabulous! If I didn’t already know I looked just as fabulous, I might be a wee bit jealous.”

Claire laughed. Gellie was just as beautiful as always. She had such good taste in clothes, as well as doing makeup and hair to perfection. Even Claire’s curly wig was tamed into a stylish victory roll. 

Claire began to dig into her bag, looking for her finishing touch. She ended up emptying the contents out on her bed, sorting through it. 

“What are ye digging for now?”

“Well, I thought I brought along my bottle of perfume. I thought the occasion called for using a touch of it, but I can’t find it. I must’ve left it behind. Drats!”

“Ah, weel. Ye’ll be fine without. Let’s be off, then.”

Geillis helped her put the rest of the items back in her bag and they set out for the USO Club. 

**********

As they walked in to the USO, they noticed it was already a packed house. Stopping at the welcome table, they grabbed a cup of coffee and a doughnut, then made their way to a table to listen to the band. There were several couples already out on the floor dancing various versions of the jitterbug. Claire loved dancing and particularly enjoyed the swing band music, her toes tapping to the lively rhythm. 

They finished their coffee and donuts in short work. Donuts weren’t easy to come by and Claire definitely had a sweet tooth. The sugar ration made sweets a rare delicacy. 

It wasn’t long before two soldiers were making their way toward their table, inviting them to dance. The music had slowed down, so several couples were making their way to the floor. 

“I’m Phillip Wylie, by the way. What’s your name?”

“I’m Claire Beauchamp. I’m a surgical nurse here in France.”

“Ah! Are you enjoying your R&R, then?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

He pulled her a little closer than she was comfortable with and struggled a bit to put more space between them. He looked at her, but she looked to the side, avoiding his stare. They danced a bit more and he said, “You know, I’m likely to be called to the front again. I was hoping to have a little company tonight of the bedroom variety. Would you be interested in…”

Claire gasped and dropped her arms, immediately stepping back on the dance floor. 

“Sir, I don’t know what sort of person you take me for, but I most certainly am NOT interested!” With that, she stomped back to the table and sat down. She craned her neck, searching for Geillis but couldn’t spot her. She was more than ready to leave.

“Nurse Beauchamp, might I sit with ye?”

Startled, Claire looked to her side to see Colonel Fraser standing by her. 

“Why, Colonel Fraser. So nice to see you again. Please do sit.”

As he sat, she noted again how handsome he was. And young for someone of his high rank. 

“I didn’t think to see you here, Colonel. I thought you would be at the officer’s club,” Claire said. 

“Nae. I avoid those stuffy places. It’s much more entertaining over here,” he grinned. He leaned in toward her, “And prettier girls, for certain.”

Claire laughed. He was certainly a charmer. He probably had a line of girls a mile long. Or a wife. That Wylie idiot could take some lessons from Colonel Fraser.

“Where are you from, then, Colonel?”

“Please call me Jamie. When I’m off-duty, I prefer to forget all about the war. And my title,” he sighed. “I’m from a little village in the highlands of Scotland called Broch Mordha. I have a farm near there called Lallybroch.”

“I see. And do you have any family there?”

“Just my older sister, Jenny, and her family. She married my best friend, Ian. They and their children live at Lallybroch with me and help run the farm.”

“Ah…so…you haven’t got a family of your own then?” Claire laughed inwardly. Now, who’s the idiot, asking such a leading question. 

“Nae. But if Jenny had her way, I’d be saddled with a wife and a passel of bairns by now. She is always trying to set me up with her friends.”

Claire giggled, “Well, I fail to see why you haven’t already got a wife…or a girlfriend at the very least. You seem like quite the eligible bachelor.”

Jamie hmphed at that, grinned and shook his head. “I dinna find her friends quite to my liking. Certainly not someone I’d marry. I’m content to wait for the right one. Da always told me that I’d know when I found her. So far, I’ve not.” He sipped his coffee and took a bite out of his doughnut. Swallowing, he asked, “And what of ye? Do ye have someone out there? Where are ye from?”

“I don’t really have a home. I’m something of a gypsy, I suppose. My parents died when I was young so I was taken in by my uncle, who raised me. He was an archaeologist, who traveled the world. I never had a permanent home until I went to college at Oxford. Uncle Lamb died while I was at university, so I’m on my own now. I had just finished up my schooling when the war began. And here I am. No husband, no boyfriend, no family. Just me.”

“I’m that sorry, Claire. I, too, have lost both of my parents. My Mam died when I was young and my Da died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your losses as well. Seems we are orphans together, I suppose.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while and listened to the band play. Every now and then, Claire snuck a glance at him to find him watching her. She reddened and quickly looked back at the dance floor, the corners of her mouth turning up. 

When the band began to play _“Moonlight Serenade”_ , Jamie cleared his throat and asked, “Claire, would ye care to dance?”

She smiled and accepted. He stood up and came around the table, pulling out her chair. Taking her arm, he guided her to the dance floor. They faced each other on the floor and he took her in his arms, smoothly guiding her in a slow dance. He was a very good dancer. Claire looked him in the eyes, blushing when he smiled at her. He pulled her closer, much closer than that weasel Phillip Wylie had. Yet she found that she didn’t mind. Jamie had charmed her in just the short time that they had known each other. She sighed when he moved his hand up and down her back. She could live right here, in this spot, forever and be completely happy. For the first time in a very long time, she felt safe. Well, there had been that soldier in the tunnel, but…

No use dwelling on what could never be. 

He was tall, her cheek barely at his shoulder. She leaned into him as they swayed to the music. He hummed in her ear. He couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, she grinned, but she found that she didn’t mind. 

She was so caught up in the moment and feeling his hand slowly moving up and down her back that she didn’t notice that Jamie had been tapped on the shoulder. “Might I cut in?”

They pulled apart and Claire saw none other than Phillip Wylie. She frowned at him and said, “You most certainly can NOT. When you propositioned me looking for a bed partner for the evening, I thought I was pretty clear that I was NOT interested in you.”

She felt Jamie stiffen beside her. As she glanced up, she saw Jamie boiling with anger. He pushed her behind him and drew up to his full, menacing height. “Soldier, what is the meaning of this?”

Wylie stammered, suddenly noticing that he was facing a superior officer, “Well, I…I…”

“Soldier, you will address me as COLONEL or SIR! Ye have exactly 5 seconds to tell me what you said to this lady!”

“Sir, I only meant to have a bit of fun like all the other soldiers here.”

“OUTSIDE, soldier!”

Claire followed them out the door, noticing the glances aimed their way. Judging from some of the smirks aimed in his direction, it looked like one Phillip Wylie might be about to get what he deserved. 

Once outside, Wylie complained, “Colonel, I…”

“QUIET!” Jamie bellowed. Wylie snapped to attention.

Claire could definitely see why he was a Colonel. He transformed into a leader of men before her very eyes. She stood back in the shadows of the building watching the train wreck happen, with no small amount of joy. 

“Soldier, I will be speaking with yer commanding officer. Until such time, ye are to remain in yer quarters tonight and ye will be returning to yer unit first thing in the morning on the first transport out. In future, ye will remember to conduct yourself with more restraint and ye will never again insult a lady in such a manner. Ye are dismissed!"

“Sir, yes sir!”

As Wylie walked away, he saw Claire in the shadows. If looks could kill, Claire would be flat on the floor dead. 

“I am sorry ye had that happen to ye, Claire. I will do all I can in my power to see that he never does that to anyone ever again.”

“Thank you, Jamie. I’m only sorry you have been drug into this mess.”

“Would ye like to go back inside?”

“Actually, not really. I wouldn’t mind just returning to my quarters.”

“I’ll see ye there safely, then. I don’t trust that soldier.”

“Thank you. You are very kind.”

They walked a short distance and stopped by the oceanside to enjoy the view of the moonlight on the water. The moon was full, with a few clouds lit up trailing across it. The moonlight sparkled on the water, causing Claire to hitch her breath.

“The view here is beautiful. It’s hard to believe that the world is at war out there.”

“The view IS certainly beautiful.”

Claire looked over to see Jamie looking at her. She nearly melted on the spot at the heat she saw in his eyes. 

“Claire, would ye like to spend the day with me tomorrow? I’m not sure when I will be called back to the front, but I don’t want to miss out on getting to ken ye better.”

Claire smiled. She knew that this was moving way faster than any usual relationship, but that was the way with war time romance, it seemed. One never knew what the future held for them. She knew only too well that soldiers lives hung in the balance. Seize the day seemed to be the standard.

“I would love to see you again tomorrow.” 

“Good. I’ll call on you after breakfast. Would that be alright?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”

He took her hand and continued on the path back to her quarters. She could feel his thumb rubbing up and down her pointer finger, sending shivers down her spine. 

“Well, Colonel Fraser. Here we are.”

Claire turned to Jamie and he took her other hand, pulling her closer. “Claire, would ye mind if I kissed ye? I know it’s highly inappropriate for an officer to do this with a nurse, but I just…weel, all this seems so unusual. I can’t explain it, but I’m somehow drawn to ye.”

“I don’t mind. I know this isn’t normal. I can’t explain it either.”

Jamie leaned down and touched his lips softly to hers, letting her guide him. He pulled away slowly then breathed in deeply in surprise when Claire threw her arms around his neck and leaned in for another kiss, harder this time. He pulled her tight to him and walked her backwards until she had her back to the door. He opened his mouth and gently ran his tongue along her lower lip and she opened to him. As his tongue met hers, he moaned (or was that her?) and sounded like a dying man. 

He moved his leg between hers and angled her closer to him. Their kisses grew hotter as they moved against each other, reveling in the electricity that they both felt at their combined touch. He moved his hand from her back down to her arse and pulled her up tight to his groin. She felt his hardness and they both moaned at the friction that they created. He pulled away from her mouth and kissed his way down to her neck, licking and sucking his way to the spot behind her ear. He stopped and breathed in her scent, intoxicated by her and her smell. She gasped when he sucked on that spot and gently bit her with his teeth, then licked her neck to soothe the ache. 

“God, I want…”

They were interrupted by the wailing of a siren, followed by a voice booming over the speaker. “All soldiers report immediately to the command center for instructions. Be prepared to move out quickly!”

“Jamie, what is happening?!”

“I don’t know Claire. I only know that preparations are being made to invade the beaches of Normandy to the north, but we haven’t been given a time frame the last I knew.”

“Oh God. So it’s really happening, then? I had heard some rumors of a massive invasion, but we assumed that the rumors were just talk. Where will you be?"

“I don’t know yet. I will try my best to let you know where I am before I move out.”

“Jamie, oh God. Please, please stay safe! I just found you. I don’t want to lose you!”

“Ye won’t lose me. I promise I’ll find ye. Now, kiss me one more time so I have something to think of when I need to remember anything but war, blood and death.”

Claire grabbed him and kissed him with all she had. When they pulled apart, they were both breathless and could barely speak.

He whispered to her, “I WILL find ye, Claire. Now, I must go.” He squeezed her arms, then turned and ran. 

The last three words made a chill run up her spine and filled her with a sense of deja vu. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are up to the point of the D-Day Invasion on the beaches of Normandy. I did a bit of internet researching to try to find some names of actual places and such. Hopefully, they are close. And spoiler alert: chapter 5 will involve a little whiff of something familiar. Hmmmmm…….

Claire had no sooner got into their room, when Geillis threw the door open, slammed it, and ran over to Claire. “Pack up yer things! We have to move out!” **  
**

“What in the bloody hell is going on, Geillis?!”

“Claire, haven’t ye heard? We are heading to Bayeux. The Allies are getting ready to storm the beaches at Normandy. Our field hospital is being transferred to the Field General Hospital there. They think that casualties could be high.”

“Oh dear. So it’s really happening, then.”

“Yes. Hurry. We leave as soon as we can get cleared out. Our transport is waiting on us as we speak.”

Claire and Geillis quickly changed into their field uniforms, threw their belongings into their bags and ran out the door to catch their ride. In the chaos of the USO camp, Claire scanned the crowd for Colonel Fraser. He should have been easy to spot, being tall and red-headed. 

She never saw him.

**********

Upon their arrival at Bayeux Field General Hospital, they hit the ground running. They were sent to the main ward to help prepare supplies and bandages. They knew the casualties would be high, so they wanted to be as prepared as possible. Beds were prepared. Surgical theaters were scrubbed and sanitized. Equipment was prepared and readied. Nurses were instructed on specific duties to which they would be assigned. They were briefed, as much as possible, on the activity that was happening on the beaches to their north. They tried to anticipate the sort of injuries that would be occurring and prepared for them. 

Finally word had arrived from the front, where thousands of British soldiers were arriving on the shores of Normandy at Gold, Juno and Sword Beaches, whilst US Soldiers were arriving on nearby Omaha and Utah Beaches. The day was the 6th of June. Allied troops were arriving by air and sea, with significant casualties given that they were easy targets arriving on an open beach with little to no cover. The entire field hospital was gathered to listen to the radio address by King George and Winston Churchill. Emotions were high, many thinking of sweethearts or family members on the front lines. We were as ready as we could be. 

Soon enough, sentries had alerted us to the first wave of field ambulances. Doctors and nurses were dispatched outside doing triage and directing the placement of casualties. Claire was stationed in the post-op tent, while Geillis was assisting with triage duties. Hours melted into days with little to no sleep as casualties from the front were arriving on a constant basis. Claire was on auto-pilot, changing dressings, checking for infection, administering medication, as well as soothing soldiers. 

“Nurse Beauchamp, here’s another patient from the surgery. Where would you like him?”

“Follow me, orderly.”

Claire directed him into the corner where an open bed was located. As he was settled onto the bed, the orderly said, “This patient suffered some shrapnel wounds as a bomb blew up near a foxhole. The doctor believes he’s only temporarily deaf. He’s suffered some minor eye injuries, so he needs to keep his eyes bandaged. All else should likely be as usual. Just mind the eyes, as that’s of the greatest concern, and stay vigilant for signs of infection.”

“Thank you. I’ll see to it.”

Claire looked at the orders sent from the surgery. She brought over a few things to aid in his care and set them on the bedside table. As she began to chart his vitals, he slightly squeezed her hand. She squeezed back and reassured him that he’d be just fine, even if he couldn’t hear her. She had treated several soldiers who were temporarily rendered deaf due to the loudness of a nearby explosion. She found that they were often soothed by touch. 

This soldier, in particular, was particularly agitated upon waking from the anesthesia. He was trying to remove his eye bandages and attempted to sit up in the bed. Claire got ahold of him gently by the shoulders and attempted to push him back. As he moaned and whimpered, he frantically batted away her hands. Claire was just about to administer a sedative when his hand accidentally landed on her breast. She went to grab his hand and back away when he stilled. She froze as his fingers inched around her breast. She took his hand away and gently patted it, laying it at his side. She couldn’t be sure, of course, but she thought that her patient woke as many soldiers did. Scared. Startled, thinking they were in enemy hands. He had calmed upon feeling her breast, so he must’ve been reassured that he wasn’t, at the very least, in the hands of German soldiers. 

Claire went about charting his vitals and checked his wounds for bleeding. She had orders to leave the bandages on his eyes for 24 hours, so she left those alone, only adjusting them for comfort. 

**********

Claire had nearly completed a 12 hour shift, and went to check one last time on her newest patient before going to her tent to get a few hours of sleep. She noticed that his hands were shaking, so she sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand, thinking to soothe him. She rubbed her hand over the top of his, easing the shaking a bit. Without thinking, she began to hum “ _Moonlight Serenade_ ”, one of her favorite tunes. As she hummed, the soldier’s fingers let go of hers and reached up blindly in search of something. They found her chin. He moved around, getting his bearings, and began to trail lower down her neck and came to a stop on her upper chest. She immediately stopped humming, wondering what he was about. To her surprise, the soldier slowly shook his head and motioned for her to continue with his other hand. 

He wanted to her hum.

She hummed the song again as his fingers rested lightly on her upper chest. As she hummed, she noted that the shaking had slowly began to subside. Soon, his body went limp.

He had finally fallen peacefully to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter finds Claire dealing with her mystery soldier in the aftermath of a very bloody battle on the beaches of Normandy. She is exhausted and running on fumes. She still wonders who her patient is. He can’t talk, hear and she can’t see his face. He has no ID. He is, for now, known as John Doe.

Claire checked on her mystery patient the next morning. No one had been able to determine who he was yet. He had been unconscious for much of the time. No one survived in the foxhole and he had no identification on his person that could be found. Thus far, he was identified as John Doe. The doctors were hopeful that his hearing would return soon. His sight would be longer in returning, if it did. The bandages around his facial wounds prohibited his speaking. **  
**

Doctors orders today were to change the wrappings on his wounds, but not to remove the eye coverings. Claire was charged with that duty first thing. 

Her patient appeared to still be asleep. She put her tray of supplies on the stand by the bed and placed her hand on the soldier’s arm. She spoke softly, “Are you awake?”

No response. 

A bit louder, “Are you awake?”

Still no response. So. No hearing just yet, it would appear. 

She methodically checked his limbs and torso for any wounds and began to gently cleanse any that she found. She checked his deeper wounds for any sign of infection, but all seemed to be progressing well. She knew her patient was alert, given that he would occasionally flinch when cleaning the larger, deeper wounds. Yet, he remained still.

She moved next to his face. As she began to unwrap the covering, he grabbed her wrist. She froze when she noticed his hands shaking again. She took ahold of his hand and placed it on her throat and upper chest, like he had done the day before. She later realized that he must have been able to feel the vibrations from her humming. If he found a small amount of comfort in such a personal thing, then she’d willingly give that to him. His touch wasn’t licentious after all. She began to hum again. She heard him take several deep breaths, steadying himself. 

His other hand lifted, seeking her. She took his hand and just simply held it. She felt him squeeze her hand and he slowly brought her hand to his face. She continued to hum as loud as she dared so that he could feel the vibrations. She then slowly began to gently unwrap the bandages on his face. 

What Claire found under the wrappings gave her pause. No wonder he was shaking. His face was bruised and swollen beyond recognition, as if he had been thrown into a rock wall. She quickly cleansed what she could. While his wrappings were off, she spooned a small amount of broth and water into him. When he could no longer take the pain, he touched her hand and pushed the spoon away. She wrapped his face back up and then took his hand, soothing him as much as possible. His shaking had not subsided much, so she gave him another dose of pain medication. 

Taking his hand after his injection, she placed it on her throat and hummed until his hand dropped from its place when he finally submitted to oblivion.

**********

Claire was finally granted some time off to get cleaned up and get a bit of sleep. She was covered in sweat, grime, body fluids, and more that she preferred not to think of. Gladly, she shed her field uniform and began to sponge off. She thought back to that hot, luxurious bath she had while on R&R. What she wouldn’t give for that right now! That also put her in mind of Colonel Fraser. She wondered where he was. If he was safe. If he was even alive. Given the reports from the front, it was a bloodbath out there. She wasn’t a very good Catholic, but she fervently prayed that he may be spared. 

She remembered his kisses and how he made her feel. Just recalling his touch made a shot of electricity go down her spine. Realizing that she needed sleep, she pushed those feelings aside (knowing that no good would come of it anyway), quickly dried off, and reached for a clean uniform. In getting her clean clothes out, she stumbled onto her long-forgotten bottle of perfume. 

She may have lacked the comforts of a good bath and she knew that her precious bottle was not likely to be replaced any time soon, but she opened it and dabbed a bit of her precious Blue Waltz on each wrist. 

She quickly donned the rest of her clothes and went to bed. She was asleep within minutes.

**********

“Claire! Claire wake up quickly!” She roused from a very deep, dreamless sleep to Mary shaking her.

“Claire! Please!”

Claire groaned and opened her eyes. “What is it, Mary?”

“Claire, your patient, that John Doe that came in yesterday, had a terrible nightmare and is very agitated. The doctor said to get you to see if you could calm him. He thinks that the pain medication may be the culprit, but…”

“Alright, alright. I’m coming.” She rubs her eyes, quickly covers her unruly hair and follows Mary at a run.

Upon entering the tent, she finds several nurses and orderlies trying to hold him down, as her patient thrashed and moaned.

“Let him go! I’ll see to him now.” As they backed away, Claire sat by his side, grabbed his hand and held it tight. She began humming as she moved his hand to her throat. His whimpers began to ease up. Everyone watched as he visibly started to regain control of himself. 

“I’ll be damned,” said one of the doctors, who was watching from the foot of the bed. “I think he’ll be alright now. Everyone return to your duties. Nurse, remain with him for a bit, if you would. I think we’ll have to consider the fact that he might be better off without strong pain medication.”

Claire reached a hand to his chest and noted how fast his heart was beating. She did her best to soothe him so he could gain control of his breathing. She noticed that the wrapping on his face had come loose in the struggle to keep him still. She reached up to adjust the end of the wrappings and began to tuck it in. 

His hand shot up and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his nose. Claire froze in place. She heard him take a deep steadying breath, smelling her wrist. She couldn’t think…

Oh. Her perfume.

Both of his hands took hers and squeezed hers, almost hugging it to his chest. His mouth tried to move but was impeded by the wrappings. 

She pulled her hand away and began to unwrap his bandages, thinking he would talk to her and tell her his name. 

She freed his mouth and he began to mouth words that she couldn’t hear. She leaned in closer and asked, “Can you hear me?”

No response. She tried again with still the same response. 

He finally whispered, “You.”

He took her hand again and brought her wrist to his nose, breathing in her scent. “Don’t…leave…me,” he whispered with great effort.

“Shhhhhh…of course not, soldier. I’ll stay. You rest now. I have you. Just breathe.”

As soon as he was calmed enough, she spooned some water and broth into his mouth. She couldn’t help but notice his obsession with her wrist. When he had had his fill of broth and water, she re-wrapped his wounds and sat with him, holding his hand to her throat so he could feel her hum. 

**********

The mystery soldier could see nothing and hear nothing. He was trapped, held captive by his senses that weren’t working. Yet, his senses of smell and touch still worked. He struggled to remember what had happened to him. Bits and pieces of what occurred were slowly returning to him. He recalled putting on a soldier’s field uniform and heading to the front lines when leadership was severely lacking due to the heavy casualties. He recalled being in the foxhole. He recalled heavy gunfire and artillery rounds striking nearby. He definitely recalled the fear. He recalled the dead soldiers at his feet, the blood staining the water and beach. He recalled the stench of fear and death all around him. 

Beyond that, he couldn’t recall anything else. 

He assumed he was in the hospital. He wanted to communicate with his caregivers, ask about his men, find out where he was. He tried to control the panic he felt at the loss of his vision and hearing. He tried to control the pain he felt. He couldn’t control the horrible drug-induced nightmares he had each time he went to sleep. He couldn’t control the shaking. 

But he had one saving grace. The gentle hands that cared for him. He felt the vibrations in her throat with his fingers and set his mind to a song that his own mam had sang to him when he had a bad dream as a wee boy. He remembered snuggling up under her chin as she sang, being comforted by her touch, her smell, the vibrations of her singing against his cheek. He tried to think of pleasant things. He thought of Claire Beauchamp. He prayed that she was safe from harm. He thought of Claire’s kisses and her beautiful whisky-colored eyes. He prayed the Rosary.

But one thing left him reeling. The nurse’s perfume. 

It was her. He remembered that smell, the shape of her face, the feel of her skin on his fingers. The darkness of the tunnel where they sheltered.

Could he feel this way about two women at the same time? God help him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our WWII Colonel James Fraser is recovering in the hospital after being injured during the D-Day invasion at Gold Beach. He can’t see or hear and isn’t able to speak due to the bandages. Claire is his nurse. They are about to find each other again. A wee bit is NSFW.

A week into recovery, the mystery soldier still hadn’t recovered his hearing. Claire started her day as she always did. She checked in on her patients, saw to their needs, then went to her mystery patient. She saved him for last so she could spend more time trying to get his name. They had thus far communicated by way of signals and touch. This morning she began as usual, but today, she caught one major difference. When she said “Good morning, soldier,” he turned his head towards her voice. She did a sharp double take, not quite certain if she really saw his reaction. She quickly sat at his side, took his hand, and said, “Do you hear me?” 

He responded by a squeeze of her fingers and a nod of his head. She gasped and, quickly recovering, began to unwind the bandages to see if he could speak to her. 

Once she had most of the bandages unwrapped, she asked, “You can hear me?”

He whispered, “Aye.” His voice was rough and broken from disuse. She gave him a drink of water and asked, “Do you know where you are?”

“Nae.”

“You were injured at Gold Beach in a foxhole. All that we have been able to determine is that your foxhole was struck by a nearby mortar shell. You were injured by shrapnel, mostly in the area around your face. You temporarily lost your hearing from the explosion. Now we just need to focus on getting your sight back, but it could be a process. For now the doctors require that the bandages remain on your eyes to aid in the healing. They took your coverings off a few days ago and checked your wounds. They appear to be doing well. I was off duty that night, but I hear that things are looking promising. How are you feeling?”

“No’ so bad,” he whispered. “Hungry.”

“Well, we can certainly remedy that! I’ll see to getting you something a bit more substantial than broth, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Aye.”

Claire quickly got a small bowl of porridge to feed him and informed the doctors that he was able to hear. As she sat down to spoon porridge into his mouth, the doctors quizzed him about his hearing. He responded positively to all their questions and they seemed satisfied with his progress. Then, “Soldier, do you know your name?”

“Colonel James Fraser.”

The empty spoon that Claire was holding clattered to the floor.

**********

Claire excused herself to return the used dishes and stepped outside. She saw Geillis exiting the nurses’ barracks and ran over to her, grabbing her arms.

“Geillie! It’s him! The mystery soldier is HIM!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoaaaa! Slow down. Take a breath and tell me what ye mean.”

Claire took a deep breath, “It’s Colonel Fraser! The one I was with at the USO.”

“Are ye sure?”

“Yes! His hearing returned this morning and the doctors asked his name. He can barely whisper, but that IS what he said!”

“Alright, then. Does he know ye?”

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about it yet. He can’t see me still, so he doesn’t realize it’s me that’s been caring for him all this time. Should I tell him?”

“Of course ye should tell him, Claire! No wonder he’s latched onto ye so. He only responds to ye.”

“Geillis, my heart is about to beat right out of my chest!”

“Then go on wi’ ye! Go tell him!”

And Geillis pushed her back toward the hospital.

**********

Claire approached his bed and took a look at him, with a very different perspective. She noted how tall he must be, with his feet hanging over the edge of the bed. His frame was exactly what she remembered. She saw his distinctive chin and noticed for the first time the red hue to the beard that was springing up. How she missed all the signs was beyond her reasoning.

She approached him, sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, and whispered, “Jamie?”

He sharply turned his head to her. Only one female would know his name around here.

“Cl-Cl-aire?”

“Yes. It’s me. God, Jamie, I nearly died a thousand deaths when you said your name! I didn’t know it was you, truly!”

“Are ye…alright? Ye…are no’…hurt?”

“No, Jamie! I’m on duty here as a nurse. I was sent here directly from the USO. What in the world happened to you?!”

“I dinnae…remember. I was…called to step…in fer…officers…that…were killed. I was in…a foxhole…tryin’ tae…,” he gasped. “Wha’ happened tae…my men?”

“Jamie, I don’t know. All I could find out was that they found you in a foxhole, the only remaining survivor.”

She squeezed his hands that sought hers. He slowly shook his head.

“Nae, nae Claire! It cannae be. Why me?” 

Jamie was clearly becoming increasingly agitated. Claire knew she had to get him to calm down.

“Jamie! Jamie, you are here because I prayed like I’ve never prayed before for your safety. I couldn’t bear to lose you, even knowing you for such a short amount of time. We’ve been given a second chance.

“Claire…I just…really…want tae…hug ye tae me…right now.”

“I know. But you can’t. We aren’t alone. We can’t let anyone see us.”

“Dinnae leave me just now. Please.”

“Never. Tell me what you need.”

“Just sit here wi’ me awhile.”

She held his hand, as usual, so anyone looking wouldn’t have thought anything was different. She began to hum softly, knowing that calmed him.

He let go of her hand and reached up to find her face. His fingers landed on her cheek and then trailed down to her throat. 

“I wondered if ye…were singing. I could feel…the vibrations. My mam…sang tae…me when I was a wee bairn. She used tae…comfort me…by singing…when I had…a nightmare.”

She held his hand to her throat and continued singing to him.

“Ye have the…voice of an angel…Claire.”

She smiled and sang him to sleep.

**********

_He dreamed again. This time, he dreamed he was in the darkness but was was clinging to someone. Her. He tried to open his eyes to see the angel, but he couldn’t. He touched her face, he felt her breath upon his face, but she never let him look at her. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in her scent. It was intoxicating. It was just as he remembered. The voice. The smell…he’d never forget._

**********

Claire took a few minutes to inhale her lunch, then ran to her tent. She wanted to freshen up. She probably smelled terrible. Her colonel was *here*. When she began to think of him as “her’s”, she couldn’t tell, but she did. She felt things for him that she’d never felt before with another living soul. She knew that she couldn’t act on those feelings or risk immediate dismissal. Fraternizing with patients was highly frowned upon. 

Skipping the scarf she traditionally hid her hair under, she tied it up with a red ribbon. Looking at her reflection in the small mirror, she checked her face for any missed smudges and started to head back to the hospital. Upon further thought, she quickly turned around and dabbed on a tiny bit of her Blue Waltz perfume. It couldn’t hurt. 

**********

Claire entered the hospital and quickly discharged her duties with all her patients, save one. As soon as she was able, she went to Colonel Fraser’s bedside ( _Jamie’s bedside_ ). He was sitting up in his bed for once. A good bit of his bandages had been removed from his face, only covering the worst of the wounds, leaving him better able to speak and hear. Looking at his chart, she saw that he was marked as needing a sponge bath that afternoon. She grinned to herself. 

“Well, Colonel Fraser, it says here that you are in need of a sponge bath.” 

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh. And it just so happens that I’m charged with that duty. So, if you’ll kindly remove your shirt, Colonel, I’ll get on with my duties.”

She thought that was very professionally done. Anyone overhearing wouldn’t know that her heart was about to beat right out of her chest, her breathing had quickened, and she was fairly sure that her palms were sweaty. She gathered up her supplies and then glanced up at her patient. He was sitting upright with his shirt on his lap. He had a hint of a smirk on his face.

She nearly dropped her basin of water right then and there. 

He was all hard and muscled. She’d never seen the like before. Most men she had seen were lean and a bit on the soft side. She shook her head mentally and sat her basin down before she spilled it all over the floor. She pulled the privacy curtains around the bed and got the towels out of the cabinet in the bottom of the table. She knew that she needed to remain professional, but just the thought of touching his skin…

Lord have mercy on her. 

She handed Jamie a towel and told him to put it over his lap. She turned her back to him as he did so but God knew she wanted to turn around and gawk. She continued to organize all the supplies on the table and asked over shoulder, “Are you ready then?”

“Aye.”

She turned around and promptly dropped the cloth she held in her hand. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. He was better than a Greek statue (which she peeked at as a child, when Uncle Lamb tried to shield her innocent eyes from the dangly bits). The towel she gave him did little to hide the fact that he was more than a little aroused. 

“Alright then, Jam…ahem…Colonel. Let’s start with your chest and arms first.”

She removed the pillows behind him, took the blankets from the bed and put them behind him to prevent the mattress from getting too wet. She lathered up her cloth and began to clean his chest and arms. She methodically followed her training and tried hard to ignore the fact that this was Jamie and not just some unknown patient.

As she began to rinse him off, she hazarded a glance at his face, or what she could see of it. That smirk was back, but even more telling was the fact that his color was up, his breathing was faster than usual and the tips of his ears were bright red. He was just as affected by this as she was. He also knew that he couldn’t act on it, either. He well knew the risks to both of them. 

She quickly dried off his torso and arms, then moving the blanket, she began on his legs. As she did his thighs, she felt his muscles twitch and he arched his back slightly. 

“Does that hurt?”

“No. Quite the…opposite.”

Oh. Under the towel, things were getting quite interesting. She dried his legs, then said, “Okay…well…uh…it’s time for the other bits. I’ll understand if you’d prefer to do it yourself, but I can assure you, Colonel, that I can be…”

“Claire,” he whispered.

He took her hand and the soapy cloth and brought it under the towel. He guided her hand to his hardened cock and leading her hand and the cloth with his own. His hips bucked of their own accord. Her breathing quickened and matched his own. He led her hand further down between his legs, cleansing his bollocks. She wasn’t sure how much more she’d be able to endure without throwing aside the towel, her professionalism, and her trousers. She hadn’t been this aroused since…well, ever really. 

He brought their hands and the cloth back up to his cock and slid it over it, squeezing her hand so she gripped him sturdily. He guided her up and down his cock, the cloth and the soap suds provided just the right amount of friction. His hips lifted and she gripped him harder. He made a very strangled, muffled sound. She looked up and saw that he had the towel gripped tightly in his other hand over his mouth. His hips bucked frantically beneath their hands and suddenly he grabbed her hand tightly and held her in place. His hips spasmed and his cock throbbed in time with his orgasm.

Realizing what they had just risked behind the closed curtains, she quickly reached for the sponged and rinsed him off, cleansing away all traces of what they had done. He took the towel and dried himself off as Claire busied herself with getting out fresh linens and a clean night shirt for him.

She turned back to him and helped him put on a clean nightshirt, then removed all the wet and soiled linens. She re-made the bed and with nothing else left to do, she looked at his face. She couldn’t tell what his facial expression was behind the bandages, but she felt a small amount of shame for not being able to control herself as she should have.

“Claire…”

He reached out to her and she took his hand. He pulled her down to the freshly made bed and pulled her into his arms. He whispered, “God, Claire…I…”

He breathed in her scent…he couldn’t help himself. She just smelled so good. She……….

He froze.

It was her. Claire. 

Claire was HER. _A dhia_!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So our Colonel Fraser finally puts 2 and 2 together and realizes that Claire was the woman in the tunnel with him. Jamie finds out if his sight has returned or not. He and Claire’s relationship progresses into a little something more (NSFW alert!). And Jamie gets some news that both relieves him and fills him with dread.

“Jamie? Jamie! What’s wrong?” **  
**

“Yer…yer perfume. What is it called?”

“Why, it’s called Blue Waltz. Jamie, are you quite well? You look very pale!”

“Claire, I…I’m fine. But I…weel…”

“Out with it.”

Jamie took a deep breath. “I met a nurse a few months ago in a field hospital here in France. Several officers and myself were stationed behind the front lines. We were being fired upon. As the shells got closer, we were evacuated to a nearby tunnel that opens into another tunnel being used as a shelter for a field hospital. When we arrived, they had called for lights out, so we made our way into the field hospital side of the tunnel to aid in the medical evacuations. When I sat down to wait out the bombing, there was a nurse by me. She was very frightened, so I held her hand and tried to distract her by talking. She had on this perfume. I got a bit carried away in the moment and I…”

Claire was completely stunned. Was this her soldier in the tunnel? Could the faceless man that she dreamed of so many nights be this man that she was falling head over heels for? 

“You almost kissed me,” Claire whispered. 

Jamie gasped and grabbed her. “Ye are her! _A dhia_! Ye have no idea how often I thought of ye. Dreamed of ye. Wondered where ye were and if ye were safe.”

Jamie slid his arms around her and held her tight. “Jamie, I never dreamed I’d find you again. It’s almost like we’ve been given a second chance. I know this is daft, but do you feel it? What I feel for you? There’s something there. I…I just…well…”

“Aye. I can’t explain it, either. But it’s there. I breathed in yer scent that first day in the tunnel and without even seeing ye, that scent stayed with me. It seeped into my head and I dreamed of ye every time I closed my eyes. Then, at our next meeting, I saw ye at the USO and I couldn’t understand how my heart could be wrapped around two women at once. Christ, Claire, to know that ye are both the same woman warms my heart and fills me with so much relief!” 

Claire took his hands and squeezed them to her chest. “Jamie, I’ve wrestled with the same thing. How could I fall for the two men at once and so quickly? I’ve always been a very independent person. I’ve never felt the draw to be with a man so strongly! I just can’t explain it better than that. It’s a pull I feel to you.”

He touched her face and felt the tears that were falling down her cheeks. 

“ _Mo nighean donn_. Dinnae weep. We’re together now.”

“But, Jamie, for how long? We’re in the midst of a war. We have duties to fulfill.”

Suddenly Claire heard Geillis whisper through the privacy curtains, “Claire? Are ye in there? The doctor is asking for ye!”

Claire’s eyes widened. “I must go! Please don’t say anything about this to anyone! I don’t want to lose my position.”

“Yer secret is safe wi’ me. I like when ye tend my wee scratches.” He wiped the tears he felt from her cheeks and sent her on her way.

**********

That week, Jamie’s bandages were removed from his eyes. 

Jamie was very anxious that his sight be restored. He couldn’t fathom a life without his sight. For a certainty, he’d be released from his office. But what would he do when he returned home? How would he work on the farm or tend the horses without his sight? His brother-in-law and best mate, Ian, had lost a leg in the war and had been medically discharged. He, Jenny and Murtagh oversaw the farming now. He refused to even entertain the idea that he might be an invalid.

As the last of the bandages were removed carefully from his eyes, Jamie slowly opened his eyes. They had drawn the privacy curtains around his bed in order to shield his healing eyes from the worst of the light of day. He grimaced at the bit of light that permeated the curtains. His eyes were tearing up and he bit by slow bit opened his eyes. 

He could see shapes. He could see colors. His eyes were blurry but praise be, he could see!

**********

As Jamie healed and his eyesight slowly returned, Claire had been ordered to get Jamie up and walk him around outside the barracks to build up his strength. They were afforded a small amount of privacy and they looked forward to their daily walks. As their walks progressed, so did their feelings for each other. They were careful to keep things in check, knowing the risks involved. Only Geillis was aware of their feelings for each other.

One afternoon, Claire received permission to accompany Jamie outside the hospital for a bit of fresh air. This was the first time they could speak freely since their time at the USO. They had linked arms and were walking closely together. To all outward appearances, they would look like a nurse assisting her patient. But appearances can sometimes be deceiving. For one Colonel James Fraser was decidedly not being a patient in thought, word or deed.

“Were I to have ye alone, and willing, I would kiss ye right now.”

“Why Colonel Fraser. I do declare, you are being mighty forward.”

“See yon tree over there? The one with the large trunk? I would lure ye behind that tree. Then I would push you up against that tree and kiss ye until yer knees were weak.”

“And then what?”

“I would run my hands down yer fine body, paying particular attention to those parts that beg for my touch.”

“And which parts would those be?”

“Ah. Those parts would be yer lovely breasts, which are heaving right now as ye try to catch yer breath. I would run my fingers around them, teasing ye, but never quite satisfying ye. Then I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I’d taste them. Feast on them.”

It was true. Claire couldn’t quite catch her breath. She likely looked like a deer mesmerized by the headlights of an oncoming car. She whispered, “And then?”

“Why then, I’d be quite out of my mind with lust, myself. I would move close enough to be able to move my hips against yers.”

Claire nearly tripped. He steadied her and they continued to walk. Claire looked at her feet, lest her glass face give her away to anyone looking.

“Next, I’d slide my hands down to yer hips and slowly ease up yer dress. I’d run my hands slowly up between yer thighs until I reached that spot that…”

“I dare you.”

“What?”

Claire straightened and looked him in the eye. “I dare you.”

Jamie looked around them and seeing no one about, he guided her toward the tree. As they drew closer to the tree, his breath harsher, he looked around and yanked her behind the tree. He pushed her up against the trunk, grabbed her neck and pulled her to him. He kissed her with all he had. His tongue begged for entrance and Claire opened to him. As their tongues danced, his hand went to her breast. He didn’t tease her at all. He went straight to the nipple, running his fingers over it, back and forth. Their hips ground against each other, causing both to moan. He threaded his free hand into her hair and kissed down to her neck, nipping at that sensitive spot behind her ear, where she had dabbed a wee bit of her perfume.

He took a deep breath of her scent, memorizing it. Then he nipped her with his teeth. 

It took Claire straight back to the tunnel, when Jamie had been trying to distract her from the bombing going on overhead. She had dreamt of this very thing. His words wound themselves into her dreams. And now her dreams were becoming her reality.

She felt his hand loosen the top 2 buttons on her trousers and he eased his hand inside her knickers. “Christ, Claire, ye are so wet! I want so badly to take ye right here and now, but I don’t dare. We’ll have to make do with this wee taste.”

He eased a finger, then two inside her and moved in and out, in and out. His breath was harsh by her ear as he whispered, “Think of this as me. My cock sliding in and out of ye. I can feel yer muscles gripping me, Claire…ye’re so close. Let go, luv. Come for me, _mo ghraidh_.”

And she did. She whimpered and moaned as she saw stars before her eyes. He quickly covered her mouth with his free hand as she pulsated around his fingers. “Ye’re so beautiful, _mo nighean donn_.”

She leaned on him for support and he held her tightly to him. She could feel his cock throbbing beneath his robe. She couldn’t leave him in this condition. And she couldn’t deny the want…no, need to touch him, too.

She eased the tie loose on his robe and ran her fingers down the muscles of his stomach. Easing her fingers beneath his waistband, she gripped him and slid her fingers up and down his length. She shifted his hard cock out of his pajamas and began pumping him in earnest.

Jamie growled down low in his throat, breath harsh. “Christ Claire! I’m nearly there. Don’t stop! Just like that!”

She stroked him three more times and with a strangled moan, his hand shot down to hers. He twisted to the side and came hard with a muffled groan against the tree. He lowered his head to her shoulder and breathed deeply as she gently restored his clothes to order. 

“Claire, ye’re gonna be the death of me.”

**********

They continued like that, stealing away as they could. Until one day, Jamie had a visitor. Brigadier General John Grey had brought a present to Jamie. 

He had received a medical discharge, with honors. 

He was going home.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We were left with Colonel James Fraser being notified that he had been medically discharged with honors. He was going home. Without Claire. It’s a bit NSFW. Also: HANKIE ALERT!

Claire was sound asleep in the barracks when Geillis burst in and roused her from her much needed sleep. **  
**

“Claire. Claire! Wake up!”

“Whaaaa…,” Claire grumbled with a sleepy growl.

“Claire, ye must wake up. Jamie sent me to find ye to give this to ye. He’s leaving soon.”

Well, THAT bit of news certainly brought her to full consciousness. She sat straight up in the bed and took the note Jamie sent her that Geillis was waving before her face. She quickly read it and bounded out of bed. 

“Help me get dressed! I have to meet him before he goes. We only have 2 hours, Geillie!”

Geillis helped Claire put on her clothes, apply a bit of lipstick and tidied up her hair as best as she could in the time given. Giving her a quick once over, Geillis nodded her approval, gave her a tight hug and said, “Go meet yer soldier.”

Claire started out of the barracks, but then thought of one thing she forgot. 

She turned back to her nightstand, took out her tiny bottle of perfume and dabbed some behind her ears. Not wanting to waste time returning the bottle, she placed it in her pocket and ran to find Jamie.

**********

Claire found him in their usual meeting spot in the trees by the hospital. It was the only place that provided a little amount of privacy. No one ever ventured out that direction, preferring to stay on the hospital grounds where the vegetation wasn’t so overgrown. 

Jamie was sitting on a blanket beneath their tree, staring off at the landscape. 

Claire looked at him. Really looked at him. Memorizing everything she could about him while she had the chance. She knew this day would come at some point, but preferred not to dwell on it until she had to accept it. How in the world would she be able to let him go? Say goodbye? Maybe even forever? Tears came to her eyes. She couldn’t help it. She just couldn’t be strong this time. She just couldn’t.

She brokenly whispered, “Jamie.”

Startled, Jamie looked over and saw her. He bounded to his feet and ran to her, grabbing her and holding her as tight as he could. 

“Claire,” was all he could manage. She felt his tears moisten the side of her face. She sobbed. They clung together for some time before they slowly pulled apart.

Taking a shaky breath, Jamie said, “I ship out in less than 2 hours. I’ve been medically discharged. Claire, I dinna want to leave ye. I want to go home, but I dinna know how I can.” He pulled her to him again.

They stood holding each other, swaying…almost like an intimate dance. He nuzzled underneath her ear and breathed in her scent, memorizing that part of her that he so loved. She felt him move his mouth to her ear and heard him take a breath, as if about to say something and then changing his mind. Then another breath and she heard him whisper, “ _Tha gaol agam ort, mo ghraidh_.”

Not recognizing the language he spoke, she pulled away from him and asked, “What did you say? I don’t recognize that language.”

He lowered his forehead to hers, hesitated for a minute, then said, “It’s the _Gaidhlig_ , the native tongue of Scots. I said…,” he hesitated again, as if unsure, “I said I love ye, my darling.”

She put her hands on either side of his face and looked him in the eyes, taking in their blue depths. “And I love you, too.” 

She wiped away the tracks of his tears on his cheeks with his thumbs. Standing on tip-toes, she kissed him gently. “I don’t understand this pull we have had to each other, but from the start, I always knew I felt strongly for you, even when I didn’t have the vaguest notion of who you were. Fate brought us together twice now. We’ll find each other again, I know it.”

“No matter what, _mo nighean donn_ , I will find ye. When this war is over, I won’t stop looking until I find ye again. 

“Jamie, what if I asked for them to…” Jamie covered her mouth with his finger. 

“Claire, ye have a duty to yer patients, just like I had a duty to my men. They need ye here. I have waited an entire lifetime for ye. Surely, I can wait a bit longer. Stay and finish out your time. Then come to Scotland to Lallybroch. I will be there waiting, praying that ye stay safe.”

“Jamie.” She kissed him again, this time with more ardor, more heat. Electricity shot down her spine into her arms as his tongue touched hers and his touch shifted lower. 

They heard the chime of the church bells mark the quarter to the hour in the distance, their time together coming to a close. 

Claire said, “You must go, Jamie.”

He looked at her, tears misting in his eyes. It seemed as if he were memorizing her features, his eyes fiercely taking her all in. 

Claire knew one of them had to say goodbye. Finally she reluctantly slid her hand down his arms to his hands, then his fingertips and stepped away from him. “Goodbye Jamie. I love you.” 

She turned and took 3 steps before she heard Jamie frantically call her name again and he grabbed her, pulling her back into their sanctuary of the trees. 

“I cannae let ye go just yet! Just one more time. I need ye just once more to have something to dream of when I am so lonely at night and cannae sleep.”

He yanked her to him and kissed her hard, then walked her backwards until she was standing against a tree. He quickly unbuttoned part of her blouse and tugged up her skirt. His right hand moved between her legs, fingers entering her. His other hand pulled her bra and slip from her breast, replacing his fingers with his mouth. Claire was out of breath within seconds. She wanted to feel him, too. With the same urgency, she unbuttoned his trousers and reached for his cock, feeling the wetness already gathering at the tip. 

“Jamie, I want you! I know we haven’t gone farther yet, but I want to. Please!”

Jamie shook his head. “No, _mo nighean donn_. I want our first time together to be slow. I want to have the time to memorize and worship every single inch of ye. To hear ye fall apart and scream my name without worrying about anyone else hearing us. Christ, Claire, I want ye so badly that I want to throw ye up against this tree and plow into ye with no thought for anything else, but I love ye. I can’t do that to ye. I want to cherish ye. And I will. I promise. As soon as I find ye, Claire, I promise this to ye. Weel…if ye…if ye want me, that is.

“Want you? Of course I want you! More than I have words for. I want all that you want. I just wish that we could have all that now, with nothing standing in our way.”

“I do, too. Now be quiet. Kiss me and make me forget that I have to leave.”

So she did.

She redoubled the effect her hand had on him. She felt his fingers between her legs move faster causing her to lose her breath quite thoroughly. She closed her eyes and let the feeling consume her.

“Nay, _mo nighean donn_ …keep your eyes open. I want to look into your eyes when you fall apart. I want to remember ye that way. If ye are going to haunt my dreams, I want it to be this way.”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. The look in his eyes was blissful yet fierce. She knew they were both close. “Christ! What ye do to me! Come wi’ me, Claire,” he gasped.

Their fingers moved faster on each other, losing their rhythm altogether. They were no longer gentle with each other. Their eyes and their movements became almost feral. 

The church bells began to peel the top of the hour.

“Claire, now!”

She practically vibrated against him as she began to fall apart in his arms, eyes locked with his. She felt his cock pulsate in her hand as he growled deep in his throat, feeling the wetness cover her hand. He was usually careful not to make a mess on her, but this time he was not in control. There was no thought involved.

The bells peeled again, marking off each hour, counting down the time they had remaining together.

He dropped his forehead to hers, their drops of sweat mingling together there. 

“Was I too rough wi’ ye?”

“No, Jamie. It was perfect.” Another chime, and then, “Jamie, don’t leave me!”

His eyes were full of sorrow, regret and tears. “I must, love.”

Another chime.

“Nooooo….Jamie! I can’t do this without you! Please take me with you! I’ll go AWOL. I’ll do anything, pay any price! Just take me with you!”

“Claire! I cannae! Ye know that. Think of the lives you can help save! Think of all the time we will have together when this is all over!”

“But Jamie, what if something happens…,” but Jamie fiercely stopped her, shaking her.

“Claire! Ye will no’ die! Ye hear me? Ye will no’ die! I won’t hear of it!”

Another chime.

He brought her to him and held her so tightly that she could scarcely get a breath. He nuzzled underneath her ear and breathed deeply of her scent. 

Another chime. And another. 

He pulled back and adjusted her clothes and his, giving her his handkerchief to wipe her fingers upon. Then he reached into his pocket and drew out a rosary. He handed it to her, kissing their clasped hands holding the rosary.

“Claire, this kept me alive when I should be dead. I pray that this will keep ye safe as well.”

Claire began to cry in earnest now as she rubbed the smooth beads between her fingers. As she put the rosary into her pocket, she felt the bottle of perfume that she had placed their earlier. 

Another chime.

She took out the bottle and handed it to Jamie. “When you get lonely, close your eyes and smell this. I will be there. I will always be there with you.” She kissed the bottle, leaving a stain of red lipstick on the label.

He took it from her and grabbed her, kissing her one long last time.

A final chime.

“Claire, I must go now. If I never see ye again, then let our last words together be these…,” and he fiercely said, “I love ye. I love ye!”

“I love you, too. Forever!”

And he turned and walked away. With each step he took, her heart broke piece by piece. She slid down the trunk of the tree and sobbed with a grief she had never felt before.

She sobbed harder when Geillis found her and, kneeling beside her, took Claire in her arms to comfort her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We were left with Jamie and Claire very tearfully saying goodbye to each other and Jamie is shipped home, being medically discharged from service. Jamie is now at home at Lallybroch and Claire continues to fulfill her duties at the hospital in France.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter. Back in the war days, mail was often (usually) read and censored so there wasn’t much privacy. I imagine that couples writing to each other had to use a lot of creativity and talk in codes to get their thoughts on paper, knowing that someone else was reading their letters. 
> 
> Some have asked about the time frame of the story. I envision Jamie was shipped home sometime in August 1944. D-Day was June 6, 1944, with VE Day (Victory in Europe, when the war was essentially concluded in the European theater) was on May 8, 1945. The war concluded for good on September 2, 1945 (the Pacific theater). You can see by the dates on the letters how time passes in relation to the war’s timeline.
> 
> We were left with Jamie and Claire very tearfully saying goodbye to each other and Jamie is shipped home, being medically discharged from service. Jamie is now at home at Lallybroch and Claire continues to fulfill her duties at the hospital in France.
> 
> Now hurry and scroll down and be prepared to laugh (or snort).

30 September 1944 **  
**

Dearest Claire,

I hope this letter makes it to you. Jenny had the address from when I was in hospital there. 

I made it home to Lallybroch after a rather lengthy voyage. There is no safe route to anywhere in Europe it seems. My sister was fair surprised to see me walk in. She hadn’t received the letter yet that I was being medically discharged. 

I am doing well, taking care of myself and healing fine (I know you’ll ask). I am working on the family farm. Being back in the stables, working with the horses, feels good. My nephew, wee Jamie (yes, he’s named for me) loves to help me. He calls me “Unca Jamie”. Of everyone here, he helps me with my recovery the most. He helps me forget the horrors of the war. He makes me laugh and cheers me up when I am low. 

I dream of you often, my own. I long to see you. When I am laying awake at night and can’t sleep, I will often smell your perfume. It helps a wee bit. On the train ride home, I realized I could still smell your scent on my fingers. I think maybe you know the scent I speak of? I was loathe to wash it off. Does that sound perverted of me? Well. No mind. I would give all that I own to feel that part of you again and hear you whisper my name. 

I’ll stop at that, for fear of who would be reading this other than you. But know that I would say more and write more if it were for your eyes only. 

I pray for your safety each day and think of you every moment that you are gone from me. Please write to me at this address at your earliest convenience. I so long to hear from you. 

All my love to you,

J

**********

28 October 1944

My Dearest Pervert,

I am finally in receipt of your letter. It appears to take quite some time to reach me. Yes, the letter was open, so as you suspect, I believe there are others who read our letters to each other. 

I only have a few minutes here to eat, so I am writing and eating my lunch so that I can send this with the mail truck. We have been very busy here. So many soldiers with terrible injuries, Jamie. And we are hearing of rumors of atrocities that are happening in Poland. Have you heard of that? I can’t even fathom the thought of what is happening there, if it is true. 

This scent of mine you spoke of? Hmmm….I wonder what that would be? I can’t think. Maybe you could describe it to me? A perfume, maybe? Something more *natural*? 

Coincidentally, I too was left with a fragrance of yours upon my hand. Is it wrong to say that I have not yet washed the handkerchief you gave me? It smells of you. I daresay I won’t wash it, either. Is that perverted of me, then? 

I dream of you, too, and often. I venture to say my dreams are not at all anything I should put in writing. 

Well, my dearest, I hear the mail truck pulling in now. I must sign off now. I love you with all my heart. I am glad you are healing and your nephew is helping. That comforts me to no end. 

Your Hussie,

Claire

**********

25 December 1944

My Darling Jezebel,

I sit here before the fire in my room and write this to you. I wish you a Happy Christmas. I only wish we were together to celebrate. I bought you a present. When you return, I will give it to you. I hope you will like it.

Yes, I have heard reports of things happening in Poland. I can’t say more, I fear. I beg of you to avoid the Germans right now. Speak to no one, my darling. It isn’t at all safe. Trust no one. Do not venture out on your time off.

You ask me to describe your scent, eh? Well! That’s a very bawdy request of a respectable Jezebel such as yourself. If I must describe it, I would call it musky. Very addictive, it is. Just the thought of it… I have a **very hard** time explaining it. **My head throbs** just trying to think of anything. Maybe you could help me with that. I would love to hear your thoughts on how you would ease that. If you were to **come** home soon, I promise it will **fill you** with joy.

My latest dream this morning caused such a stramash that it required me to **get up**. The **muscle strain** it caused was quite remarkable. I do believe my nurse, who was ever so helpful with muscle strains in hospital, would have been able to assist me. I was left with no cause but to **rub out** the strain myself.

Do you also experience such discomforts? Would you describe that to me? Details would be ever so helpful. 

When this war ends, _mo nighean donn_ , I have so many plans for you. You have no idea. Well, at that…maybe you do.

I will close for now. I will pray for you tonight. Again, please, please be safe. I can’t even begin to tell you the amount of worry I hold for you. May God go with you, my own.

Love,

Blue Baubles

**********

1 February 1945

My True Blue Warrior,

I am in receipt of your letter today. I am sorry to hear of your **hard** times. It is **very wet** here at the moment. 

You ask how to ease your **muscle strain**. It takes a **very strong hand to rub out** the tension, you see. **Back and forth** many times. **Up and down**. A practiced hand, cautiously **squeezing** and bring **blood rushing to the muscle** , can relieve the tension quickly. Other times, a slower pace can be more beneficial. All will bring the same **throbbing release**. 

You also ask how I relieve my own muscular strain? Well, my licentious lad, I don’t often have time to do so, but when I do, I find **moist heat** helps. One finger can be helpful, but relief for me is often quicker with all my fingers. An **up and down** motion is best. And at particularly stressful times, my other hand must **enter into it**. The friction creates an extraordinary amount of heat in **just the right spot**. I would venture to guess that you could discuss a **quite lengthy** remedy, as well. If you would be so kind, that is. 

My darling, I do endeavor to stay safe. I never leave the hospital grounds at this time. I want to make it home to see you, so I have plenty incentive to not go off adventuring. 

I am excited to know what you got me for Christmas. I do so love surprises!

Also, enclosed please find the Valentine card that I made for you. 

Forever Yours,

Your Glistening Pearl

**********

31 March 1945

My Licentious Lass,

Your letter finds us all well here at Lallybroch. We are in the midst of breeding season here with the animals. 

We have a stallion, who at the present moment, has quite the need to breed with his chosen filly. She proves to be quite the tease, you see, flicking her tail at him, leaving him with no satisfaction. She has worked him into such a lather that we fear that he will not be gentle with her when he next has his opportunity with her. She is quite loud when he attempts to cover her. She is a strong filly, though, and can well hold her own. He is often not suitable for company. He smells her scent, you see. She quite makes him out of his mind. When his condition becomes dire, we take pity on him and release him to her. He corners her and refuses to take no for an answer despite her teasing. With luck, he will be able to sweeten her with his charms. He is truly in a desperate state. Wee Jamie was just commenting today on how ~~well endowed~~ … Well. Never mind that.

Your last letter certainly left me no doubt that you could require my assistance with your problem with excess moisture. When you return, I would be glad to take a wee keek at your problem area and do any necessary adjustments. 

Each letter eases my mind that you are safe for a time at least, but I still worry for you. News reports are particularly worrisome to me right now. Please, please continue to stay vigilant. I feel it won’t be much longer, my love. I pray for you every hour.

I will find you.

Forever and always yours,

Your Mighty Steed

**********

**T E L E G R A M**

28 April 1945

Col. James Fraser

Lallybroch, Broch Mordha, Scotland

Received word we are being sent home. Transport to London arrives 8 May. Will arrange for transport to Lallybroch there.

C. Beauchamp

_Jamie dropped the telegram on his desk, his hands still shaking for fear of bad news that telegrams often bring these days. He yelled, “Jenny! Get your things together! We must leave for London! She’s coming home!”_

_He dropped down into his chair, his heart pounding. She’s coming home. He takes the perfume bottle out of his pocket, opens the lid and breathes in deeply._

_She’s coming home._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie had just received word from Claire that she was returning home from the war in France, her tour of duty completed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t do a whole lot of researching to see if all these places mentioned are actually close enough to each other. A quick Google search said they were close enough for me. Also, this chapter is definitely NSFW!
> 
> This is the final chapter. The last will be an epilogue and that will conclude the story. I had so much fun writing this! Writing has been on my bucket list for a long time. I am so glad I gave this a go!

8 May 1945 **  
**

Claire dressed in her rarely worn white nurse’s uniform, complete with white cap and white stockings. They were nearly to London and word had it, there was a huge celebration. Germany had surrendered yesterday and Churchill had declared it a public holiday today. The streets were crowded with people celebrating VE Day, or Victory in Europe Day. The war was still raging in the Pacific against the Japanese, but Europe was finally free of Hitler and the terror he brought.

Claire was so glad she was being sent home and, even better, she was one step closer to returning to find Jamie. She didn’t know how she would get there or where Lallybroch even was, but she’d cross that bridge when she got there. She did her hair and makeup with great care. She hadn’t properly set her hair in rollers in an age. She forgot how difficult it was to style her hair into victory rolls. Luckily, Geillis was a fair hand at it and managed to help her get them right and pin her white cap into her hair.

Soon enough the train arrived in London, carrying the nurses that Claire had been traveling home with. As Claire looked at the window, she couldn’t help scanning the crowd at the station for a tall, red-headed man. There were just too many people to see anyone. She had to admit she was disappointed. She had quite the daydream of her Colonel Fraser awaiting her at the platform. He couldn’t have known, though. She decided to stop torturing herself. 

Geillis was looking over her shoulder, exclaiming at the sheer volume of people there. “I dinnae see how anyone will find each other here. What a crush!” 

Sitting back in her seat, Claire sounded defeated, “I know.”

“Oh, Claire…I’m sorry. Ye’ll find him. I just know ye will. Have a wee bit of faith, yes?”

She sighed and nodded. 

As the train pulled to a stop, they collected their baggage and got off the train. They had the greatest of luck and found a taxi that took them to a hotel on Piccadilly. The taxi driver had quite some difficulty navigating through the crowds lining the streets. He finally stopped right in the middle of the street and let them out, telling them that he’d never be able to get closer to the hotel due to the crowds. They paid him, grabbed their luggage and took off running. 

Inside the hotel, they checked into their room and Geillis grabbed a bottle of champagne, took Claire by the hand and said, “Weel, let’s go then! We have a party to attend!”

And she was not wrong. The atmosphere was absolutely electric. They dodged drunken sailors who were celebrating making it home in one piece. They marveled at the cars packed full of soldiers and civilians alike celebrating. They laughed at absolute strangers kissing and hugging each other. 

They shared the champagne straight from the bottle. It wasn’t long before a group of soldiers came upon them and grabbed each of them in turn, swinging them around and dancing. They hoisted Claire and Geillis up on their shoulders, as the girls squealed with joy, the bubbles of the champagne going straight to their heads. 

As they were paraded around on the shoulders of the soldiers, they were able to see out over the crowd, astonished at the sheer number of people crowding Piccadilly. Claire begged to be set down from the shoulders of the 2 soldiers she had been perched on. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she saw a flash of scarlet and, before she was able to see, someone had grabbed her arm, bent her over backwards and was kissing her. As tipsy as Claire was, she allowed it. She held on for dear life to the soldier that had her, with her left leg held out aloft and her right leg bent nearly under her. 

As the soldier pulled away, she realized a few things. 

He wasn’t just a soldier. He was an officer in full dress uniform, his scarlet jacket dripping with medals of recognition. His hat had been covering a good portion of his face. As he adjusted it, she nearly fainted from lack of oxygen.

“Colonel James Fraser, at yer service ma’am,” he bowed.

With an alarmed look, Jamie grabbed her again when she looked as if she were about to swoon. Geillis, seeing what was going on, jumped to the ground and grabbed a newspaper from the ground declaring “Victory in Europe!” and waved it before Claire’s face. 

“J-J-Jaime?”

“Claire. God, Claire!,” and he held her tightly to him. “I thought I’d never find ye! I’ve been searching for ye since dawn. _Mo chridhe_ , I told ye I’d find ye again!”

Claire’s mind was completely overwhelmed. She couldn’t form a thought, let alone a complete sentence. She couldn’t take her eyes from him. He was so handsome in his dress uniform. She shook her head, opened her mouth and stammered, “B-But how?!”

“Ye said ye were coming home and would be arriving in London today. We packed as soon as we had word and came down to find ye.”

“We?”

“My family. Everyone is here, Claire.”

“Where?”

“A woman of few words, eh?” Geillis snorted and Jamie laughed. “ _Mo nighean donn_ , they are all waiting. I’ll take ye to them. But first…”

Jamie dropped to his knees. Geillis squealed and the crowd that had gathered around them in curiosity began to cheer.

“Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, would ye do me the very great honor of becoming my wife? I love ye more than life itself. I cannae imagine life without ye. Nor do I want to. Please, please say yes.”

Claire clung to his hands and tears coursed down her cheeks. The crowd chanted, “Say yes!” but she hardly heard them. She shook her head in disbelief, then smiled. “Yes!”

The crowd roared as Jamie sprang to his feet, grabbed her in his arms and kissed her with all he had before the entire gathering on Piccadilly. He swept her off her feet and, with Geillis (and quite a number of interested bystanders) trailing behind, he took off down Piccadilly. They laughed and Jamie let out a whoop! 

He stopped before St. James Cathedral and set her on her feet. 

“What is this, then?”

“Weel, ye ken that I am not a patient man. I won’t wait one second longer to make ye mine. Go inside. My sister, Jenny, is there. She will help ye dress. I mean to make ye my wife. Now.”

Geillis’ jaw couldn’t be any wider open than it was as Claire looked at her. She snapped it shut, grabbed Claire by the hand, and said, “Weel, Claire, let’s get ye inside! It’s bad luck to see the groom before the wedding!” They took off at a run as the crowd cheered.

**********

It didn’t take them long to find Jenny inside the cathedral. She did quick introductions, hugged Claire and said, “I’ve heard so much about ye! Jamie has been planning this day for so long. I hope ye aren’t too disappointed that we did this without ye. He wanted to surprise ye. I picked yer dress and hope it fits. If no’, I have someone who can alter it quickly if need be.”

Jenny ushered Claire and Geillis into the dressing chamber and hanging on the wardrobe was a beautiful dress made of satin and Chantilly lace. Geillis gasped, “Claire, it’s beautiful! And it’s absolutely perfect!” 

Claire agreed wholeheartedly. Jenny said, “Weel, let’s get ye dressed then!” A small army of women began to transform Claire into a bride. She was scrubbed, lotioned and groomed. They dressed her from delicate underclothes and stockings (new silk stockings…what a luxury!) and slipped on her wedding dress, which fit her to perfection, and veil. She declared that Jenny and Geillis would stand up with her at the altar. Jenny set the women in motion (it turns out they were from a store right down the road) and soon they appeared with gorgeous matching dresses in light pink chiffon. Claire was presented with a bouquet of red roses.

A knock on the door sent Jenny to answer.

She returned with a box and a note that she handed to Claire. “Jamie wants ye to read the note and have this gift.”

Claire quickly opened the note and read it. 

> _Mo chridhe_ ,
> 
> _These are my mother’s pearls that she passed down to me. They are the only thing I have left of her. She wanted me to give them to my bride some day. Please wear these as a token of my love for you._
> 
> _I love you now and forever._
> 
> _Your Stallion_

Claire grinned and opened the box. She took out the most exquisite string of Scottish pearls. Geillis and Jenny helped her put them on, nestling them perfectly into her sweetheart collar. 

In record time, they were ready. Claire looked at herself in the mirror and was amazed. She was beautiful. Just as she had always dreamed. 

Jenny sent word that they were ready and they made their way to the cathedral. 

Geillis stopped her and hugged her tightly. “Claire, I am so happy for ye. Who knew that our day would have turned out like this?!” 

She thumbed away a tear on Claire’s cheek, admonishing her to not ruin her makeup. She then hugged Jenny and thanked her for making everything perfect. 

With that, Jenny and Geillis walked down the aisle. 

Claire stood at the entrance and took a deep breath. Her heart beat loudly in her chest and her hands shook. Calming herself, she stepped into the doorway and began to walk down the aisle to her Colonel. 

No.

To her husband. 

She smiled so much that her cheeks hurt. 

As she got closer to Jamie, she saw tears running down his cheeks. Jenny’s husband, Ian, elbowed Jamie and handed him his handkerchief. He chuckled softly, and took it, wiping his tears unashamedly. 

Claire took her place by Jamie and vowed before God, the priest and a packed cathedral full of strangers that she’d never leave his side ever again.

**********

After the wedding party indulged in pictures, a light supper, and cake, Jamie whisked Claire away. They left the reception in a flurry of rice thrown at them to enter a magnificent Rolls Royce awaiting them. 

“Jamie! Where in the world did this come from?”

Jamie laughed. “Compliments of Brigadier General John Grey. He was my groomsman, along with my brother-in-law, Ian.”

Jamie handed her into the car, helped her arrange her dress and veil, then got in beside her as the chauffeur shut the door.

“Where are we going now?”

“Weel, that is a surprise to both of us, ye ken. John has arranged everything from this point on.”

In a few minutes time, the car pulled up in front of The Ritz Hotel. 

Claire whispered in awe, “Oh my!”

The chauffeur opened the door for the newly wedded couple and they entered the hotel. The valet dealt with their luggage (Claire noticed her luggage had magically appeared as well) and they were shown to a lavish room. The maid awaiting them in the sitting room led Claire to the bedroom to assist her in removing her wedding gown. She presented her with an assortment of lingerie to choose from (all hers, the maid assure her). She chose a beautiful sheer confection in blush pink with a matching satin robe. Once she was ready, the maid pointed out a small box on the bed to her, telling her that was a gift from the groom. With the assurance that she wasn’t needed for anything else, the maid let herself out. 

Claire quickly unwrapped the box and found inside her bottle of Blue Waltz perfume, complete with a red lipstick stain. There were a few drops left in the bottom. She quickly uncapped the bottle and dabbed it behind her ears and knees. She smiled and remembered when she gave it to Jamie. 

A soft knock on the door brought her new groom to her.

He had removed all but his shirt and trousers. He quite took her breath away, leaning on the door frame.

“Claire,” he whispered. He stood there taking her in, committing her exactly this way to memory. Her hair was loose. Her robe open, barely concealing what lay underneath. 

He slowly walked over to her. He slid his open shirt off his arms and it fell to the floor. Circling around behind her, his hands landed on her shoulders and slowly pulled the robe down. It pooled on the floor by her feet. He kissed her neck, breathing deeply, recognizing the scent of her. 

He walked back in front of her and toyed with the straps of her sheer nightgown. He could clearly see her dusky nipples and the shadow of the hair between her legs. A rush of lust hit him so hard that he was sure he’d expire of it on the spot. 

He ran a single finger down the deep v of her nightgown that ran well past her cleavage. Claire was breathing so hard, it was as if she had just ran a race. His eyes followed his finger over to her breast. He traced the curve of her breast that peeked out of the neckline, then slid his hand under the sheer fabric. Cupping her breast, his fingers moved back and forth over her nipple, making it hard. As she moaned, he moved to the other breast and gave it the same treatment. He gently pinched the nipple, rotating it between his thumb and finger. Looking down at her, he could see her hardened nipples standing out.

He whispered, “Yer nipples are like cherries, staring at me. I wonder if they will taste as sweet in my mouth. What do ye think, love?”

Claire could do no more than whimper and arch her back. He inhaled sharply. He couldn’t wait. He had intended to drag this out as long as possible. But he just couldn’t. 

He slowly dragged her straps down off her shoulders and watched her gown pool at her feet, joining her robe on the floor. He stepped back and took his first look at her fully naked for the first time. He would never in life forget this exact moment. 

He took a step up to her, put his hand behind her neck and brought her to his mouth. He kissed her hard, open-mouthed, with his tongue tangling with hers. Electricity shot between them and they both sharply inhaled, lust pooling between their legs. Her pebbled nipples rubbed against the hair on his chest. His hands ran down her back to cup her arse and brought her up hard against the erection in his trousers. They ground against each other, moaning and panting, barely able to take in enough oxygen. 

Claire stepped back, while he protested the loss of her. She took on red fingernail and ran it down his chest, across a flat nipple and down the hard ridges of his stomach. He sucked in a breath, as she ran her fingernail down further past the buttons on his trousers. She ran it over the bulge that ran down the right side of his fly and down toward his hip bone. She’d seen him before, but she’d never quite seen his *this* large. She felt his cock twitch as she ran a fingernail up and down the length of him. 

“Please, Claire. God, pleaseeeeee,” he ground out.

She opened his buttons, one by one, so slowly that Jamie thought he’d go mad on the spot. She ran that same red fingernail up the trail of hair that led from his cock to his navel. As she took a step closer to him, his hips angled to her, seeking that friction that could bring him relief. Her hands traced along his waist and dipped down his back, into his trousers. She was surprised to discover that he wore no drawers.

She whispered, “A true Scotsman, then, eh?”

“Aye.” Truthfully, he had forgotten his kilt in the rush. But no matter.

She squeezed his arse and pulled him flush to her. He leaned down to claim her mouth, but she leaned back. 

“Did your stallion ever find any relief?” She was teasing him now. And he was going to give her as good as he got.

“No. She still teases him. Ye see, he can still smell her scent. It’s overwhelming to him and he wants to claim her.”

Claire rubbed her thighs together, feeling the wetness drenching her inner thighs. She pushed her pelvis up against his and ground against him, causing him to groan deep in his throat. 

“What will he do when he catches her, do you think?”

“Weel, he is particularly entranced by her smell. It drives him nearly insane. He will probably grab her mane with his teeth and bite her neck.”

“I see. Do you think that would hurt her?”

“Nooooo….she loves it, ye ken. He burns so badly for her that he’d do anything at all to have her.”

She slid her hands further down to cup his arse, sliding them up to finger the crevice there. 

“Claire, I…”

“Shhhhhh.” With a flick of her wrists, his trousers slid past her hands and down to his feet. He stepped out of them, coming closer to Claire as she kneaded his arse. 

Then she knelt on the floor before him. Before he even had a chance to open his mouth and stop her, she had his cock in her mouth. He cried out and grabbed her hair. He knew he wouldn’t last long like this but he couldn’t pull her away. He couldn’t just yet. She ran her tongue around the tip, then took him all the way down to the root. He cried out and pulled her away. 

“I can’t, _mo chridhe_. I can’t wait anymore!”

He stood her up and walked her over to the bed. “On yer knees.”

“Knees? Alright then.” She looked over her shoulder at him, grinned, and crawled slowly onto the bed, wiggling her hips at him, knowing exactly what she was doing to him. His eyes were glazing over. She arched her back and he pounced on her. He grabbed her hair in a ponytail and latched onto her neck with his mouth, gently biting her as he pulled back on her hair. 

She let out a yell laced with ecstasy. He angled his cock to rub between her legs, both reveling in the sheer need, the desperation, to feel friction. He kissed down her back and over her hip. Flipping over onto his back, he moved up between her legs where he licked her and inhaled her scent that was *her*. He had dreamed of what this would be like. 

She gasped when he licked her between her legs. She had never had anyone do that to her. He gently sucked her hardened clit between his lips and she screamed. Sliding out from underneath her, he came up behind her, took his cock in hand and slid into her. She arched her back and slammed back onto him, causing them both to cry out. He grabbed her hips and held her in place as she squirmed beneath him. His thumb slid down the crease of her arse and gently rubbed and pushed against her. She was panting and crying out as he slowly slid out of her, then rammed back into her.

Twice more and he pulled out of her flipping her over to face him. He quickly entered her again, while he pulled her legs up onto his shoulders. His hand went to the place that they were joined, and rubbed the hardened nub. She was close and so was he. His hand quickened, in time with his cock. She grabbed handfuls of the cover beneath her and arched her back as he inner muscles tightened around him. She fell apart before his eyes and no matter how badly he wanted to shut his eyes and follow her into the abyss, he held on to watch her. He had never seen anything so beautiful. He brought her up tighter against him and he rammed home, where he joined her, his vision going black with stars before his eyes. 

**********

She woke the next morning to find him surrounding her, his arm and leg thrown over her. She slowly turned over in his arms, carefully so as not to wake him. She looked at his face, so peaceful in sleep. She couldn’t help it. She gently kissed him. 

His eyes slowly opened and he blinked. 

“Good morning, my own. Did I yet tell you I love you?”

“No, _mo nighean donn_ , I don’t believe you have.”

“Shall I show you, then, my stallion?”

“Aye. I think ye should.”

It was a good morning, indeed.


	11. Epilogue

_January 2, 1995, 50 years later_

Faith, Bree, Fergus and William were upstairs in the attic at Lallybroch, sipping on their Da’s best whisky. They may or may not have been hiding from their children, who were currently pestering their grandfather outside throwing snowballs at him as their grandmother cheered them on. They were all home for the holidays and were thoroughly enjoying each other’s company. They weren’t often all together at Lallybroch at the same time these days. 

Bree was looking for their memory boxes that Claire had lovingly made for each of them over the years. In digging through all the memorabilia stored in the attic, she ran across a box they’d never seen before. She pulled it off the shelf, blew the dust off of it and opened it. .

“Hey! Come look at this.”

She moved it out into the middle of the floor where they all gathered around it. Inside the large box was Da’s old military uniform, his medals, Mam’s white nursing uniform, her satin wedding dress, a small bouquet of dried roses, Da’s well-worn wooden rosary beads, and an old empty bottle of perfume. Tucked in the bottom underneath it all was a bundle of letters addressed to either Colonel Fraser or Claire Beauchamp, along with a picture of a man and woman in the middle of a street kissing in a crowd of people. 

William said, “It looks like Mam and Da’s things from the war and when they got married. Do ye suppose those are their wartime letters to each other?”

Bree slid one out of the packet and opened it. She scanned it and promptly turned pink. She choked out, quickly folding up the letter, “Uh, so it would seem.”

Her siblings laughed at her. Fergus elbowed her, “Weel, are ye gonna share?”

Bree, embarrassed, said unequivocally, “NO.”

That earned her another round of ribbing and ribald comments.

“Alright, alright! I’ll paraphrase it because I am definitely NOT reading that to ye. Da apparently was telling Mam about how badly he…er…*missed* her during World War II. Ye know…badly. And something about a…ahem…stallion.”

“Ahhhh,” William laughed. “Good ol’ Da had a bad case of the blue balls.” He smacked his brother on the leg and they both dissolved into laughter.

“So it would seem,” Bree squeaked out.

Faith offered up, “I’m not sure we really want to be reading these. It would seem kind of … well, gross. It’s like walking in on them in the middle of them having sex.”

”GAH, Faith! Dinnae be putting that vision in our brains again! We were all scarred for life that year!” 

They all chuckled at remembering that Christmas morning nearly 40 years ago when they bounded into their parents’ room to wake them so they could all go downstairs to open presents and found their parents rolling around naked on their bed. Bree, the youngest, cried thinking Da was hurting Mam. Fergus and William thought they were wrestling and wanted to join in before Faith, the oldest, grabbed them and ushered them all out the door. She was barely 10, but knew enough to know that they weren’t meant to see what they saw. 

Bree wrapped the letters back up and hid them back at the bottom of the box. “Let’s all agree not to look at these, okay? I dinnae think it’s a good idea.”

William inquired, “That bad, eh?”

Bree pinked again, “Yes.” 

Remembering their parents on that Christmas morning, they all agreed. Fergus picked up the picture and studied it. ”Do ye think this is Mam and Da? You can’t really see their faces.”

Closely studying the picture, they noticed the medals on the officer’s broad chest. It would seem that they matched those in the box. And it looked like Mam’s nursing uniform. 

Faith picked up the empty bottle and opened it, sniffing. “Huh. This still smells like the perfume.” She passed the bottle around and they each tested out the scent.

At that moment, Da burst in the attic door, Mam closely following. “AH-HA! So this is where ye all have disappeared to! What are ye about then? Oy! This is where my good whiskey bottle has gotten off to? And here, I was blamin’ yer mam. Fer shame.”

They dropped all the items they’d been examining and looked up at their parents guiltily. William sheepishly said, “Weel, we were looking for our memory boxes but found this and were just…”

“Snooping?” Claire finished for him, her arms crossed, smirking at her children.

They all replied, “Nae!” 

Jamie finally took pity on them. “Weel, if ye’re not busy then, ye can all go downstairs and take care of those bairns of yers. They are cold, wet and hungry. Mrs. Fitz has hot chocolate and cookies ready for them.”

At the mention of food, especially Mrs. Fitz’s famous cookies, the siblings took off at a run.

Jamie laughed and shook his head as Claire moved over to pick up the scattered contents of the box. “What were they looking at?”

Claire smirked. “They were looking at the box of things I saved from our war years before we were married. I couldn’t bear to part with any of it. I suspect their guilty looks came from this right here,” she said, holding up the packet of letters tied with a red ribbon.

Jamie sat down beside her and looked over her shoulder at what she was holding. He quietly laughed, knowing exactly what they letters said. “Serves ‘em right for sticking their wee nebs where they dinnae belong.”

As they held things and reminisced about those early years, they shook their heads collectively. “Claire, how did the time pass so quickly? Nearly 50 years. I cannae believe it.” 

Claire quietly agreed. She held a black and white picture of them that a photographer had snapped of them in the street. Jamie had her bent over backwards in a passionate kiss surrounded by a crowd of merrymakers. She ran a finger over the picture, thinking back. Jamie had the old perfume bottle. He opened it and breathed in deeply. “The smell. It takes me right back, _mo nighean_.” 

“Would ye like to go back and relive that time?”

“As much as I would, I dinnae think so. I dinnae want to burn like I did, ye ken?” He tapped the letters with his spectacles in his hand. 

Claire’s laugh tinkled and brought him a wide smile. “Now that ye mention it, I’ve made it my mission in life to never burn like that again.”

Claire smacked him and laughed again. She leaned over and kissed him. He grabbed her and kissed her harder, leaving both of them breathless. 

“Go bolt the door.”

“Why Claire Fraser! Whatever would I do that for?”  
  
“Bolt. The. Door. I’m burning.”

He bounded up spritely, despite his aging knees and joints, and ran to the door and locked it. Then thinking again, he moved a heavy old dresser in front of the door.

“Maybe you could tell me about the time that you tried to breed that stallion and filly?”

“I’ll do ye one better. I’ll show ye.”

And he did. 

**_~THE END~_ **

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Blue Waltz is really a perfume. Google it. I actually have a bottle that belonged to my mother from the 40′s or 50′s. I used to love to play with it, pretending to dress up and put on makeup.


End file.
